I remember a time as a child I asked to sleep with my parents. My brothers had let me watch the t.v. movie, St. Valentine's Day Massacre. It was a movie about gang killings in Chicago during the mobster days. I had nightmares for weeks. This poem was inspired after a night one of my boys woke me, because of nightmares.
A Dad's Sleep
awakened by a tug on the arm,
eyes unopened I hear his complaint,
nodding my consent,
dreams once vivid, now quite faint,
grabbing his arm, I throw him into the bed,
I roll back over and cover my head,
he nuzzles close,
like a second skin,
I experience regret, I let him in,
the memory buried, emerges once more,
scary nights of long before,
when the only comfort to wake my dad,
and ask protection from the monsters bad,
the circle eternal, now I the dad,
to be awakened when the nightmares bad.
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